


Best Gift Ever

by mandylynn4



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Christmas, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Slash, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandylynn4/pseuds/mandylynn4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for B. Thomas for the Fangasm Secret Santa of 2014.  She requested fan art, but I don't have the right software to do it justice.  So, this little ficlet was born.  No real spoilers, set sometime,after S4...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Gift Ever

"What's the best Christmas present you've ever gotten?"

Jensen raised a sleepy eyebrow at his best friend and co-star, who was stretched out on the opposite end of his trailer's ratty couch. Jared had shown up on the trailer's doorstep shortly after Jensen had plopped down on the couch himself and wormed his way onto the sofa right next to him. Jensen would complain, but what was the point? It was late - close to midnight now - and the actors were waiting on the crew to reset some lighting and a pane of prop glass so they could do another take of their scene. The dogs were curled up in their "guest" blankets near Jared's feet, so sound asleep that Harley's snores could be heard over the hum of the generators outside. Jensen was quite honestly beyond ready to go home. He desperately wanted to snuggle deep under his thick comforter and not move for at least six hours. 

But Jared, trying to keep them both awake, was insistent on grilling him on random personal facts. Many late evenings on set were spent this way. It started out as a rapport builder at the beginning of the first season and grew into, at times, friends trying to decide who could come up with the most interesting question or answer. Oftentimes, Jared won. He never seemed to be as exhausted as Jensen, possibly because of the sheer amount of sugary junk he shoveled into his mouth during breaks. Speaking of, the younger man took an enormous bite out of the three-foot licorice stick he'd dug up from the bottom of the craft services Christmas candy stash. 

"I know," he said with a hint of amusement. He twisted his giant torso around to grab for the item Jensen had flung on the "dining" table. He held it up close to his face as he grinned. "This is your favorite gift ever, right?"

Jensen laughed, taking the ugly thing out of his friend's hand. Misha had given the entire cast and crew strange things he'd acquired through his fan mail - regifting, he'd called it - that people had created for the last GISHWHES. Jensen's was a horribly repurposed rubber chicken, made to look like what appeared to be a snowman. It reminded Jensen of something he'd once thrown up after a long night of drinking White Russians. "Definitely not," he declared, tossing the hideous thing across the trailer. Sadie looked up from her blanket, but didn't bother moving closer to it. 

Jared flicked a strand of hair out of his face. "So, if you don't like Mr. SnowChickAMan, what IS your favorite gift?" When Jensen made no moves to answer, Jared poked at his ribcage. "Tell me," he sing-songed, ignoring Jensen's irritated yelp.

Jensen scrubbed a hand through his hair, knowing it would be retouched before going back on set anyway, and sighed. "Uh....," he began, not really wanting to mention the first thing that came to mind. A man had to have some secrets. "When I was five, my dad got us a Nintendo system. Big set-up, too. System, Mario, Duck Hunt, and that track game with the pad?"

Jared sat up, eyes alight with excitement. "Yeah? We had one of those, too!" He whipped the licorice down on the sofa and Jensen winced at the thunk it made. Harley whimpered in his sleep and Sadie's ears perked up. "Jeff and I used to cheat on that track game. Always won!"

"Cheated?"

"We sat on the floor next to the pad and pounded our fists on the numbers. And during the triple jump, we had to time it just right.....fun times."

Jensen shook his head, but smiled. "Dork." He felt a bit of energy returning to his body as he remembered playing with his brother and sister.

Jared settled back down onto the couch, one leg sprawled over an arm, the other bouncing up and down, jostling Jensen with each movement. He chewed off another chunk of licorice, licking his sticky lips. "You love me, though," he teased. 

Jensen shoved at his bobbing knee with his boot, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't say that too loudly." He turned his voice into a stage whipser, "Fangirls have very big ears." After a second, he nudged Jared's knee again. "Your turn."

Jared snickered, but nodded in agreement. He slurped on the end of the licorice rope a second, thoughtful expression on his face. Finally, he pulled it out with a pop. "Oliver, of course." He didn't elaborate, so Jensen reached across the sofa and flicked at his ear. 

"OW! Okay, okay! He was this tiny little kitten I had when I was four or so. He was orange and white and lived on my uncle's farm. We went out there for Christmas that year and I was sure that Santa left him for me. I played in the snow and found him under the deck, curled up like he was cold. So I grabbed him - he must've known I was going to help because what farm cat lets a kid just pick them up? My aunt had a screaming fit when she realized I let him into the house, but he follwed me around and I gave him milk and tuna.... We were at the farm for a little over 3 days and he was my buddy. Little shit used to crawl all over the farm equipment and inside the hoods of cars to stay warm. I was still little enough that I didn't realize that farm cats don't usually make good pets....or that they don't always come back after they wander off." 

Jensen watched as Jared got a faraway look in his eyes, recalling that memory. "Sorry, man. That sucks."

Jared smiled over at his friend. "Nah, it's okay." He smirked then, whacking Jensen's leg with his licorice. "Gives me a life experience to draw from when I need to cry over Dean dying....again."

Jensen laughed. "Shut up."

The two sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, lost in memories of Christmases past. Finally, Jensen cleared his throat. "Actually," he began, "my all time favorite gift when I was a kid was this little wooden Santa my great grandma gave me. I was probably about ten or so, just starting to figure out that toys were getting to be lame and girls were more interesting.

"I was sitting downstairs at great grandma's house, watching some of my cousins wrestle around on the carpet, when she came over and asked if I was feeling okay. I said I was just too old to be playing like that and she laughed at me. She told me to come over to this little closet under the stairs with her, that she had something a growing boy would love to have. 

When we got over there, she had me crawl clear to the back - through the cobwebs and the creepy dark dampness. In the corner was a small wooden box that had letters carved into the top. They didn't make words or anything....just weird letters. When I pulled it out, great grandma opened it and told me to choose something from inside."

Jensen went quiet, thinking about the assortment of strange items inside the box: a length of braided leather cord, a small bronze colored ring with no stone, pieces of sheet music, a few stones, a pipe that looked like it was made out of a hunk of iron, and a wooden Santa doll. He'd spent a few agonizing seconds gazing at the items before stroking a finger over the Santa. Its face was cheerful, cheeks rosy with pink paint under the clear laquer. It was smooth to the touch, rounded belly that tapered into the head slightly, almost egg shaped. His great grandmother had smiled warmly as he selected it and took it into the center of his palm.

"The Santa doll was something she'd saved from when her grandmother was young - something she'd played with and admired since she was my age. She'd waited to give it to someone in the family who she knew would keep it safe and sound for other generations. I guess she thought that would be me."

Jared had stopped chewing on his licorice and was listening intently, face serious. His whole body was still. Jensen rubbed at his eyes, thoughts crowding into his head and starting a dull ache inside. It had been a long time since he'd remembered the backstory of that particular item. 

"Jen?" Jared asked quietly, one warm hand resting lightly on his shoulder. 

Jensen took a breath and looked up at Jared. "I'm good, man." He pulled his body up off the couch and teetered slightly as he walked over to the cabinet beside the bedroom where he kept his linens. He dug around in the back, underneath the pillowcases and behind the towels before grasping the item in question. "Here, look. I still have it." He held it out for Jared to take.

Jared's long fingers closed around the wooden figure, mouth open just enough that Jensen could hear his even breathing. He stared down at it for a long moment. "That's awesome, Jensen," he finally said. 

"I guess," Jensen shrugged. He sat back down on the sofa with a thud, watching Jared look at the Santa. "She passed on about a year or so after that, so it's kind of like I'm holding on to her memories of it."

Jared nodded and passed it back to Jensen carefully. "You win." 

Jensen let out an amused huff of air. "Win what?"

"Best Christmas gift." He went back to gnawing off a mouthful of licorice, leg bopping and bouncing once more. After a beat, he nudged Jensen with his knee, dimples out in full force. "And, for the record, best holiday memory - even if it IS one of the girliest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, Ackles."

Jensen threw his head back, whole body succumbing to a laugh, which Jared joined in on shortly thereafter. If anything, Jensen would always cherish these moments with Jared - great memories of their friendship and examples of the comraderie they had from day one. Sometimes, Jensen believed that the Santa was not his favorite gift ever, that Jared's friendship was.

Both dogs sat up on the blankets as one of the PAs rapped on the trailer door. "Mr. Ackles? Is Mr. Padalecki with you?"

"Yeah, we're in here. Come in!"

The girl came in, bringing a gust of frosty air with her. Sadie leapt up and bounded over, tail wagging enthusiastically. "You're needed for touch ups in the makeup trailer in five minutes." She scratched the dog absently as she scanned her phone for any more instructions. "Maybe we'll get you guys out of here before 2."

Jared popped up off the couch, tugging the cellophane wrapper up over the chewed end of his licorice whip. "That would be fantastic," he groaned. "I'm beat."

Jensen stood and stretched. "Yeah, you act real sleepy, Gigantor," he teased. 

The PA smiled at them and then exited the trailer, leaving the two men standing in the quiet. Jensen leaned over and placed the Santa doll on the table top, smiling as it wobbled back and forth. "Back to work," he yawned. 

"No rest for the wicked," Jared said, elbow poking at his back. "Think they'll have any of that fruitcake left at craft services?"

"I bet so. You're the only one who's been eating it." Jensen gathered up his coat and stocking hat, watching as Jared did the same. As they left the warmth and comfort of the trailer, the force of the door shutting rocked the frame. On top of the table, the Santa doll rocked back and forth.


End file.
